Gesture Me Home
by Teeny Tiny Twilight
Summary: A one shot. if requested, it will turn into a lemony two shot. Bella, planning to unwind at a bar, meets Edward. An All hhuman Edward and Bella love bit. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Gesture me home**

**Teeny Tiny Twilight**

I sighed, opening the top button to my blouse. _Finally_.

Psychiatric work was not only my deepest love in life, but also my specialty. To be blunt—which I usually was—There was a quirk in my brain that made it so I did not identify well with people. I had all the subconscious actions that everyone carried. Normal right? I was _consciously_ aware of them. Not normal. It didn't matter if it was my gesture, or someone else's.

Maybe the easiest was to explain the world through my eyes was to imagine everyone had maniacal allergies. Every unconsciously driven gesture was as obvious to me as sneezing. I'm sure I could stop my own, but also like sneezing, it was just painful to try.

A single gesture, something as simple as a smile could really say a thousand words. And I listened to all of them. As much as I loved being good at what I did, it was embarrassing to have people who didn't know me as a person, only knowing my title and my books, gawking at me like I was a great prodigy. Mostly because the moment they started stuttering, nervous in my presence, I blushed and returned the awkwardness.

It was amazing I had friends at all.

Angela, one of my best friends at my office, usually working with children in her soft voice and patient understanding said it was _because_ I didn't walk around like I was the great goddess of head tilting was exactly why I had the friends I did.

That wasn't always true, some people lost interest in me when I didn't look or act the part of a young prodigy genius.

I had just come from the office after meeting one such person. It always hurt more than it should to see the respect turn into something less as they realized I was just Bella Swan. No grand title, no gold ribbon tied around my neck, or an award held high in my hands. Just Bella.

Right now, Just Bella, really needed a drink after a long day.

"You look like you could use a drink." A velvety voice beside me echoed my thought, and I turned to see a young—more around my age really, but working with older individuals all day makes everyone under forty look young—with short reddish-brown hair that looked like he'd just woken up. His face was nice, very good looking actually with a sharp jaw and a mouth that looked both capable of an easy smile or a thoughtful frown.

At the moment, his lips were pulled into a half smirk, and he kept eye contact for more than five seconds. His clothes looked thoughtfully put together, his pelvis was pointed in my direction with his legs slightly apart.

This guy was looking to get laid.

"Bar tender," the kid said, tapping his hand onto the counter to get his attention. With his other hand, he hooked his thumb into his pocket, trying to get _my_ attention so I would look at his...assetts.

Jake leaned onto the counter, long black hair bound by a rubber band at the nape of his neck. "What can I get you for?" I rolled my eyes, but neither of them saw. Jacobs' lips quirked fractionally, already knowing my expression anyways. He loved playing the stereotypical bartender. It filled some great purpose in his life.

The new guy who's name I still wasn't sure of (But who's intentions were already clear) grinned that same smile that said on one side of his face _I'm a good guy, and I want to make you happy_ while the other side of his face was darker, hinting at _how_ he intended to make me happy.

Sorry kid, it's not happening.

"A drink for the lovely lady." He said, still grinning at me.

Jake raised an eyebrow at me, "The usual then?"

I smiled thankfully at him, glad he hadn't said my name in front of his boy. "Yes, Please." Jacob grinned and turned around, getting my drink ready. The drink was light, just something to do when I came and talked with Jake after work. Tonight I was glad the drink wasn't hard; I didn't trust getting drunk around this guy.

The new boy seemed a little intimidated that I knew the bar tender, and I watched his toes turn in slightly towards each other. A sign of insecurity. The new kid sized Jake up, decided he was either better looking, or had a better chance of landing me and shrugged our exchange off. "I'm Edward." He smiled, extending his hand.

Palm down, never a good sign. He was actively pushing away connection on a more meaningful level. The deepest conversation I'd get out of him was discussing grave dimensions. I grimaced, "I don't sleep with people I've just met in a bar."

Edward's head moved forward a little like couldn't believe I'd just said that. I blushed and looked away.

Subtle, I was not.

Edward's toes turned to face each other, a gesture of insecurity. "Oh, yeah. That's cool. No, I just thought you were kind of cute, and I guess we all have varying standards." he laughed suddenly, " Am I still talking?" His toes turned in more obviously now, and his chin tilted down in the slightest action of admitting he was not alpha male.

I saw Jake wince for Edward out of the corner of my eye. Edward rubbed the back of his neck. This was one of my favourite gestures. It was the instinctive gesture to cover your most important body parts—the head and neck—when intimidated, or scared.

Despite the fact that he had had this coming to him, I felt bad. Especially since I was more aware of his embarrassment than anyone else could be. His day seemed to be turning out as wonderfully as mine.

"That women over there seems interested though, if you...still plan to end the night in a similar fashion." I was purposely speaking in a formal way to make him feel as if I were more detached from the entire situation, and hopefully to make him more comfortable. The women I nodded to, was not only interested, but a new divorcé. She would extend her left hand before a man, when she was obviously right handed. She was not looking for a relationship, she was looking for a new body for a new start.

Edward looked up at the woman. The cursory gesture looked more like he had already decided he wasn't interested before he even looked, and he looked away without much interest though the woman was much prettier than I was. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass." He mumbled, getting up, paying for my drink. His feet dragged slightly as he walked out of the bar.

I bowed my head in apology to Jacob. I knew Jake so well that it was not an instinctive reaction to judge his gestures too deeply. It is like knowing someone with a lisp so well you stop noticing it. In return, Jake didn't seem to care when my social etiquette was not at its finest. "Sorry," I mumbled anyways, "I think I just ran your customer off."

Jake shrugged, "He tipped lousy anyways."

--

The next day, I was sitting in a conversation with Jake. Apparently the new kid had come back after I had left looking for me for another try.

Jake was just starting to shake his head 'no', when I asked in my sevearest tone if he'd told him anything about me, and then someone behind me caught his eye. "Your friend is back."

I glanced over my shoulder, wondering who from my office would have come _here_ after work. I was walking distance from my house in case I wasn't fit to drive, though Jake usually let me sleep on the couch in the back room. This was a little out of the way of my co-workers.

As that last thought settled in, my gut started to sink with a nervous fluttering. And strangely, my breathing increased though I only moved my neck. Hardly vigorous activity.

Edward, the boy from last night was leaning against a side counter where Jake usually set up snacks like chips, or when it was really busy, we made some kind of appetizer. Jake currently had meatballs covered in honey garlic sauce in his fridge back home I had helped him make for Friday.

Edward had been staring at the back of my head, running his hand through his hair in a grooming gesture, subconsciously trying to look good for me. I could not see the floor because of all the people around, but I was sure his toes would be turned in. Once he realized he had been caught, he grinned his half smirk for confidence, and walked over to me with a confident alpha male gate.

His head was bowed slightly when he reached me. Dogs did this, it was a way of showing they knew their place. "Hey," he rubbed the back of his neck, but his eyes stayed for an uncomfortably long time on mine. I counted the seconds. One, two, three, four, five, six…he looked at Jake. "Can I get a beer? And a drink to apologize to this lovely lady for yesterday."

He smiled to show he was going to be good, but his six seconds stare meant one of two things. He wanted to kill me or have sex. They way his pelvis was turned towards me assured me of the later. Translated, he was going to be good, but continue to imagine fucking me while we talked.

Uncomfortable.

I looked away awkwardly, "You really don't have to." I mumbled, trying to shoo him without hurting his feelings too badly. And then I wanted to smack myself. Men responded to tone, and everything about my voice had said meekness. Easy to conquer. I had been right before, his toes, which had been turned towards each other shifted to face me.

_Nicely done_. The voice that _should _have been my subconscious, but I was absolutely aware of whispered. Strangely, though the words suggested sarcasm, it sounded honest.

He caught my eye again, moving a stool closer to mine and sitting down. He was closer than an arm's length, unintentionally invading my personal space. Automatically I shifted my chair a little away. His body leaned unconsciously closer to me. "I never learned your name yesterday."

My body's automatic response to attention from a man with a symmetrical face, and an alpha male attitude was to fiddle with things around my neck and wrist. Drawing his attention to those, areas were a sign of attraction, and my hand of its own accord, nervously tucked a piece of hair behind my ears. Edward's eyes flickered to my neck, and he wet his lips. Gaze hungry.

I tried to be polite when all I wanted to do was push him off his bar stool and see if he got the message then. "Funny how that happens." I murmured into the drink he bought me before taking an unnecessarily large swallow. I was watching my good day slip away from me. He was still waiting—still not getting the hint—and I extended my hand, realising only when he clasped my hand that my palm had been up. Funny, my usual habit was to show palm down. "Bella." I admitted, too distracted by my hand to give a phoney name. Like Cindy lou-who

And then the most amazing thing happened. Edward gestured towards me with his palm _up_ in return after letting my hand go. "That's a beautiful name." he said gently.

Jake leaned across the counter towards Edward, popping the cap off the brand beer Edward had nodded to. "It actually _means_ beautiful in Italian. And French is similar." He winked at a startled Edward.

I snatched the damp towel from off his shoulder, spun it so it was twisted around itself, and then snapped it at him. Jake laughed, stealing it back from me. "You suck, Jake." I mumbled, ireful. Jake grinned and winked. We had come so far. Jake used to be absolutely smitten with me until one drunken night had proved he loved in the only way he could. He wanted to take care of me, and I could take care of myself.

Edward, smiled, and his eyes flickered down my body in a practiced look that lasted half a second. "It suits you." He agreed.

I sighed, tracing my pinkie finger around the rim of the glass, "look…it's been a bit of a long day. Do you mind if I just talk with my friend?" I reached into my purse and pulled out the same amount of money as the drink had cost. "I'll pay you back for the drink."

Edward hesitated, and then shook his head with a disappointed smile. "No, I'm good. It was worth it anyways." He smiled once more and stood up, about to leave.

Something fell out of his pocket, and my hand shot out instinctively to—amazingly—catch it before it hit the floor. Pride at this newly accomplished feat made me smile. "Hey," I called him, not even looking at what was in my hand.

Edward turned back—shoulders and everything—and then his eyes brightened at what he saw in my hands and he walked back towards me. He was standing _far_ too close for my conscious liking, but my traitorous hand touched where my blouse met my neck.

I looked at what was in my hand with horror. Edward pressed himself closer against me, "Changed your mind about new men?" he wondered huskily, touching the condom in my hand. And then he grinned, laughing quietly, "hey, I have the exact same…brand." He finished the last word dully, looking at the magnum Trojan.

It was his turn to look at me in horror, and then he winced slightly and reached into his front pockets, finding them empty. "Oh please God." He prayed under his breath, checking his back pockets. He would not meet my eye. "I dropped that?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, taking the condom from me and putting it into his pocket. He took a step back from me. His toes turned slightly into each other, back and head bowed slightly in surrender of his dominance. He looked up at me, embarrassed. "I've made an ass of myself two days in a row. It's a new record." He tried to smile.

I cheered half-heartedly for him, trying to make a comfortable joke of it. "I can beat your record easy. I make myself look less than graceful almost everyday of my life."

Jacob leaned across the table again, only catching this last part of the conversation. "It's true; she's never developed social skills. I have talked to monkeys with more etiquette."

I glared, "Do you talk to yourself in the mirror often Jake?"

Jake raised his eyebrows in mock offense, "Them's fightin' words."

I took another sip, "Let me finish my drink and then I'll kick your ass."

Edward chuckled softly, his hand touching the small of my back to get my attention. Men did this to show not only attraction but also possessiveness, and if he touched me another four times in the same minute, I'd need to hose him down.

I shifted to face him, trying to shake his hand off in the same movement. "Yes?"

He smiled, his hand moving to the very edge of my knee. "Do you mind if I just finish my drink, and then I'll go off and let you do your own thing?" he put his car keys on the table, already deciding this was his territory, claiming it so. Just like lions, he was securing the most desirable place where he could easily find mates and food.

I shrugged, turning towards Jake again, shaking his hand from my knee. "I can't tell you where to sit."

He touched the back of my elbow. I looked at the clock on the wall. Three times in less than thirty seconds. Not good. "But I'm not asking you where you want me to sit. I'm asking if you would _mind_ my choice."

I stood up and grabbed my purse, finishing my drink. "No, go ahead. I'm leaving anyways."

Edward's face fell a little, and he reached for my hand. "Nice seeing you again, Bella." His lips rose at the name, the words falling like a musical verse. He brought my hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of my hand so gently it felt like the flutter of moth wings.

Heat raced up my arms like electricity and burned in my face. "Y-you too." I managed to stutter, and then turned and walked quickly to the door. As I turned I saw the clock on the wall. He had touched me five times in forty-five seconds.

_Not good. Not good. Not good._ Was my mantra on the way home.

I came in the next day wearily. Today was Friday, I tried to console myself, this place was always packed on Friday, and with more women to choose from, he wouldn't even notice me. If he was even here. Maybe I had managed to shake him last night.

Probably not, but it didn't hurt to hope. I made my way to the end of the bar where Jake poured all the drinks. This was where I sat of Fridays so I could both be his company without being out of—and conveniently still in—the way.

Jake was working with little Seth tonight, running around getting people drinks and chatting for tips. Jake saw me, and went to start to make my drink. "No, I need something good and hard tonight." I grumbled.

Jacob looked surprised for a moment, "Your friend had the same idea." He nodded towards the Karaoke stand where Edward was giving me a dark look.

Oh please no. Not tonight. He started up a _Lead Zeppelin_ song. Just as _Dazed and confused_ started, Jacob handed me my drink with a pitying expression.

There had been a call from the police on a case today, and though this was the most exciting and rewarding part of the job, today it had been _hell. _Once the reporters couldn't squeeze anything from the police, they turned on me for information.

_Wanted a women, never bargained for you. Lots of people talk and few of them know, soul of a woman was created below._

Not only do I always stutter in front of cameras, but today someone's leg had gotten in front of me, and not only taken me down, but an innocent bystander who had the misfortune of walking by me in that moment.

_You hurt and abused tellin all of your lies, run around sweet baby, lord how they hypnotize. Sweet little baby, I don't know where you've been, Gonna love you baby, here I come again._

It's not like I could even give them any details if I had wanted to. I'd rather deal with some pushy reporters than have the chief of police after me. The one I often had to deal with was nothing like Charlie. He was very loud, very obnoxious, and was the first person to make sure everyone knew he carried authority.

_Try to love you baby, but you push me away._

If this song said _baby_ one more time, I was going to stab someone with a miniature umbrella. See if people want my opinion on murder _then_. Unbelievably, Edward came down from the raised dance floor-ish place, eyes locked on his target—me—and then tossed his keys onto the space beside me, claiming it his before moving his chair closer to me.

"I've figure you out." He whispered drunkenly in my ear. I grimaced at his proximity, and leaned away. His hand, though no demanding, touched the small of my back and leaned in closer, nearly in my lap. "You're a cock tease. You want me to chase you, don't you? You _love_ the attention." He leaned away a little, his lips pulled smugly up. "The fact you keep coming back over and over to see me proves that." He straightened, and I stopped breathing in hard liquor off his breath.

I looked down at what I always wore here. I was just from work, so I had a blouse that had the first button undone for comfort. Something like how a man might loosen his tie. It was always hot in phoenix, so it had short sleeves, and breathed but was a darker blue. My attempt to look more professional by copycatting male suit colours. I wore long comfortable tailored pants that I loved, if only because of the sounds they made when I walked.

My eyes watered at how _mean_ he could have been—and worse than that—he was making me second guess what I was wearing, wondering if it was true. I looked around for Jake to secure my place again as Dr. Isabella Swan, not the Bar Bella he was accusing me of being.

I swallowed the self-conscious lump in my throat, and raised my chin fractionally. A gesture of trying to become taller, and so more intimidating, showing I was not weak. Also my personal version of 'go fuck yourself'. I grabbed my purse closer to myself, wanting to keep my hands full so I didn't end up leaving him to chew on his teeth for the rest of the night.

"Just so you know, it's not your _sparkling_ conversation that I come here for, Jake happens to be one of my best friends. Believe it or not, some people actually enjoy winding down after work with good friends and a drink." My lips were trembling with anger, and then I noticed the scene I was making, my words had come out just a little too loud between songs, and Jake was pleading with only his eyes that I don't start something. Not tonight. I blushed and looked down. I knew he already had enough on his plate. "But I guess I don't get that luxury tonight."

I stood up and left Jake a twenty, nearly a fifteen dollar tip, and walked crisply to the door, fighting tears. I was not going to be good company anyways. This cock-tease might as well go home and soak in my slutty bubble bath like the whore I was.

I was almost to the door when someone—and If held at gun point, I'm pretty sure I'd already be able to say his name—grabbed my wrist, his middle finger over my pulse point. "Wait, I—"

I turned around and not even Jake's anxious look could stop me now. My aim and my height were a little off, but I still managed to get him squarely in the jaw. He stumbled back into a man who was talking with a pretty woman in a short dress. He turned, and angrily pushed Edward back this way. He ended up pushing us both against the wall, his body crushed against mine.

Not his fault, I tried to remember, he just happens to have luck as terrible as mine. Nevertheless, I _was_ still livid. I pushed him away, and turned on my heel, stalking out the door. Or one of them. The door I had walked out of was made of safety glass—Jake was tired of replacing the glass twice a month—and could lead out the second door that lead out, or too the outside area where people laughed in the clear night air, lanterns making the already brightly coloured drinks glow like magical scientific experiments.

I hesitated a moment, feeling the air, refreshingly cool and clean against my skin, and I wondered if I really had to leave just yet. Could I not just hide on the open patio until Edward left or was thrown out? Guiltily, I knew I preferred the later.

I leaned against the brick beside the window, hidden from view while I tried to decide. Instead of deciding though, I was still angrily coming up with sharp witty comebacks that I wish I could have said immediately.

Beside my deserted patch of desolate sun bleached brick, I heard a hollowed _thudd_ing against the window over the shuddering beats of the music, having started up again after Edward's performance. My eyes stung at the reminder of the suddenness of his unmerited attack. I turned back against the window instinctively, only to see Edward. His eyes were closed, one hand on the window, leaving marks for Jake to clean up later at closing time.

His eyes opened, and the green was move vivid from the bright, happy patio lanterns than the sweet-sour lime drinks I had observed earlier. '_I'm sorry_' he mouthed through the window, eyes intensely apologetic. A red mark on his chin proudly displayed my right hook.

I considered returning a rude gesture that no one would be able to mistake. Instead, I thought better of it and made my decision.

I was going home.

I skipped the bar on the way home on Saturday and Sunday, too cowardly to face him again. In the wake of my hurt and anger at Edward, small gestures that he had made the night before that had gone over my head at the time started to haunt me.

How he had automatically smoothed his shirt out after being pushed, trying to groom himself to impress me.

How when I had blushed, his shoulders had rolled, a protective gesture to indicate he wanted to hold me. _Because he thought I was cute._ I bristled at that. I meant to be angry, I wanted to show him that he couldn't just hurt me and expect me to take it. He thought I was as adorable as a kitten.

The way his head had been turned slightly to the right, showing his neck in a display of trust and vulnerability. An unconscious gesture to say that he considered me in his care, offering the exposed piece of his throat to me. The vulnerability was making him more approachable.

I hadn't seen Edward at the bar before, and I hoped my absence would be enough to make him move on to his next pick-up place. I desperately wished I could have said I hoped he'd move on soon—I missed my nights with Jake, closing up together and laughing about one incident or another—but my nerves were always on end when I thought of going back to the bar.

I almost hoped I might see him. If only to smooth things over so I didn't have an absolute stranger hating me.

I sighed on Monday, trying to concentrate on my notes while a pleasant little twisting anxiousness was turning my stomach into knots. I was going back to the bar. I would try to smooth things over; tell him more plainly that I was not interested in a hook-up.

_Maybe not a hook-up_, my mind whispered conspiratorially_, but you know you're tired of understanding without being understood. Of seeing without being seen, and caring without being cared for._

My heart ached. "Yes." I admitted to the lonely room, my voice dangerously close to a sob, "But I want to be loved the morning _after_ too."

The voice continued, ignoring me. _Late at night, he might lean his forehead against yours, and you might smile. You of all people know how deep that gesture goes, how much trust and _love_ is in something so simple. _

I wiped silent tears from my eyes, shuffling papers around with irate energy. "What the hell do you know, your just my mind." The whisper didn't answer and I got up to go see my next patient, all the while wondering if I shouldn't get checked out myself.

We were getting the end of hurricane Bill, and as I ran into the bar from my car, desperately seeking shelter from the rain, I knew I'd be dryer if I'd asked someone to throw buckets of water at me. I sighed, and looked down at my thin shirt, glad it was dark, but nervous that the outline of my bra might be seen. I already knew men initially looked at a women's waist and breasts, it was how they judged if you were a healthy mate or not.

I desperately hoped none looked to see if I fit the job description.

Obviously, I called it upon myself.

I had just grabbed my drink from Jake, about to look around to see if Edward had really moved on, or if I could try to talk to him without showing him my _left_ hook. Edward appeared out of nowhere, half yelling the ending of a teasing joke to a buddy and ran smack-dab into me. I should have been more specific when I asked not to be noticed.

Edward froze, mid-conversation, jaw still open in the middle of forming the word he had been about to say. "Oh my god." He whispered, eye wide.

I looked down at my top and sighed, letting my startled arms drop to my sides, my once full glass now emptied onto my shirt. An alcohol bath wasn't so soothing as I thought it sounded. Oh well, with the rain pouring like it was, all I had to do was standout side for three seconds and I'd be nicely washed and clean again.

Edward put his hand to his mouth in the most horrified look I had ever seen a person wear other than in the movies. It was somewhat funny to see it. "Bella...oh my god, Bella I'm so sorry, I didn't...oh my god." Edward's expression crumbled, and I thought he might cry. I instinctively raised a hand to do the whole 'oh no, honey, don't cry, everything is fine' instead he spun and threw his hands in the air instead. Running his hands through his hair agitatedly before turning back to me with an expression that balanced on the precarious edge of incredibly sorrowful and feverish incredulity.

He grabbed my shoulders, and I let out a small squeak of surprise. Personal space invasion. He pulled me so that all I would have to do it extend my middle finger, and I would be touching his —_dry, _damn him—shirt. "Please," he begged, "I just want to talk to you, just _once _and leave a good impression. That's all I want, just one good meeting with you."

"That's not quite what you're currently accomplishing."

Edward let go of me immediately, taking a step away with a deep breath. "Sorry." He murmured nervously, and actually bowed a little to me.

I smiled at him gently, "It's fine, I'm soaked to the bone anyways."

He grinned a huge relieved crooked smile, but it was his whole face that shone, not the two faced one I'd come to expect. "Thank you. Here," he hesitated, "can I take you into one of the bathrooms to dry your shirt?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah," he sighed, "That's what I'm thinking. But not intending."

I laughed a little, "Alright, I'll see if we can use Jake's bathroom." I grinned playfully at him "or were you looking for a free pass into the girls bathroom?"

"So I can see you girls squeal and run around because I caught you straightening your hair? Though I've heard your bathrooms do smell better..."

I sighed and talked to Jake, he laughed openly at Edward who bowed a little, shoving his hands in his pockets with a sheepish smile. "Sure, Bells." Jake agreed. Just as I was going into the backroom with Edward close behind me he called out, loud enough for a few people to turn their heads towards us, "Bella, just stop playing in the damn water."

A few eyebrows were raised at us, and I blushed madly. Edward did his shoulder roll again, looking like he desperately wanted to reach out and cuddle a kitten. His eyes even took on the large, _aww_ look. I glared, threatening to bring out the claws if he got any ideas.

He chuckled, walking into the bathroom that used to be open to the public, before Jake decided he really hated having guys from the bar watch him while he relieved himself. The bathroom had horribly painted stalls, but there were only two stalls and four urinals.

Edward looked around, noticed some magazines inside one of the stalls, and burst into laughter. I sighed and opted for the second stall. I unbuttoned my blouse, and Edward promptly threw his own shirt over the stall. I caught it, a little surprised by the gesture. "What's this for?"

"It's a piece of fabric with four holes, two for your arms, one for your head and the last for your torso. Some people wear it. Most people call it a shirt thought."

I scowled at the blue chipped paint that had long leaked it's colour into grey, aiming in the general direction of his voice. "You suck, too." I grumbled under my breath.

"Pardon?"

I blushed, "My luck, too." I called more loudly, hurriedly pulling the shirt over my head. The collar caught on my bun, and pulled it loose, making strands fall in my face, and my hair fall uncomfortably loose. I sighed and opened the door.

Edward saw the ponytail half hanging onto my head, and he pursed his lips to keep from laughing. Raising his fist to his mouth to try and hide the slow escaping smile. Embarrassed, I pulled the ponytail out of my hair completely, shaking out the kinks from having it in all day.

Edward stopped laughing—or trying not to laugh—immediately. He just stared at me. I shifted uncomfortably under the gaze. Usually people moved their eyes every three seconds, and when interested, stared you straight in the eye for six. Ten was the comfortable if the distance was farther appart. I might have waved a hand in front of his face, but there was something mesmerizing in how green his eyes were. How the bronze in his hair shone a little in the light, making his penetrating eyes all the more noticeable.

Fourteen Mississippi...fifteen Mississippi...sixteen Mississippi....

One of us needed to move, I could feel my hands shaking. My eyes stung, dry from not blinking often enough, and I wondered wearily if I had been hypnotized. Finally Edward moved. Closer to me.

I swallowed thickly, and a whisper of a voice cheered in the back of my mind, barely audible over my thundering heartbeat. Instantly, my first reaction was to try and diffuse the tension. Sexual or otherwise.

I laughed breathlessly, looking up at his face. Absolutely serious, eyes still on mine. He was close enough that I could smell him, feel the heat between the short distance between our bodies. My head nearly had to fall back onto my shoulders to look comfortably at him. "How's the weather up there?" I wondered in weak voice.

Edward's expression changed minimally, he continued to stare solemnly at me, though his mouth turned up into an ersatz smile. "Cold." He murmured quietly.

My eyebrows lifted, because, despite his attempt to return with a joke, his solemn answer felt too truthful. Obviously seeing this as well, his eyes flickered embarrassed away for a moment, before something akin to gravity, pulled them back to my eyes. He gave me a half hearted smile, and half a shrug.

Alone, this gesture was simple to understand. It said I can't help it. Alone, that gesture was simple enough to let pass without much consideration either.

But the gesture wasn't alone.

One of his shoulders had lifted higher than the other, for one, the opposite of his strongest hand. In the same moment, his head had tilted into that same direction. He was asking me to come to him. To the left side of his body.

He was drawing me towards his heart.

It didn't take a rocket scientist—or rather a psychologist—to explain what that meant. _I love you. _And in the moment that the meaning started the echo through my head—_I love _you—too loudly, I moved towards him. The moment I touched his bare chest—over his heart, feeling the unsteady pulsing under my hand—the words in my mind made sense, because they were not echoes_. I love you. _It had only taken the shock of touching his skin to clear my head.

_I love you_.

They were _answers_.

_I tried to tell you that._ The voice whispered in my mind, mocking in how close it sounded to laugher. And I _knew_ I was mocking myself, and I knew I deserved it. _If you had stopped analysing his gestures long enough to notice your own, you would have seen _all_ the signs. _

The irony was, I had fallen into love at first sight.

Startled, I took a step back, though not from the shock of touching him. Edward's eyes followed me, and something was changed about them. Still cautious and solemn, but _warmer_. Stronger.

He moved closer to me. "I'm going to kiss you." At his words, a small tremble carried across his shoulders, and his eyes caught fire. "You have five seconds to stop me." He whispered, leaning in closer to my suddenly hot face.

I counted the seconds off in my head. _Five_, his hands cradled my face with his hands, holding my head like the most delicate, and gorgeous treasure. _Four_, one hand slid into my hair, caressing the locks, soaking up the warmth at the back of my neck. _Three_, he slowly lowered his face to mine, eyes sliding closed. _Two_, my eyes fluttered closed, my lips parting slightly, and I felt his nose touch mine for a moment, aligning out features in a tender gesture. _One_, his lips brushed delicately against mine, and then he hesitated a moment longer, giving me that extra second.

I didn't move.

His lips brushed against mine, hesitatingly slowly. I shivered, my hands touching his bare shoulders, warmth burning through my palms. The moment he got a concrete feeling that I wanted him, his lips became more _there. _

Slowly, his hand tightened at the back of my head, slowly increasing force until he was holding my face against his, his other hand at the small of my back, bowing my body against his. He was so _warm_. So real and there, and though I'd already felt safe, I felt _indestructible_ in these arms. My fingers ran through the soft strands of hair at the back of his neck.

Edward pulled away suddenly, and I stumbled forward. I hadn't even realised how much weight I had been leaning against him until he wasn't there. Edward tried to keep his solemn expression, but slowly, a grin pulled his lips up. "So...is this our first date?"

With my heart still pounding in my ears, blood heating my cheeks and breath ragged though the kiss had been perhaps one of the softest touches I had ever experienced, I smiled back. "Only if Friday is our second."

Edward gave me a cocked smile, his head tilting slightly left, his shoulder raising towards it. Gesturing me home.

**A/N**: Hey!! Remember me? Yeah, the one who never updates. I've just recently dragged myself out of the mountain that is my homework, and I've also had the great misfortune of a little thing called writers block. I decided to throw this out there, see what happens. I promise, I'm working on the next Baby sitting chapter, I just needed something else to think about for just a second.

P.S. if anyone is interested, I'll turn this into a lemony two shot. ^_^ thanks for reading and putting up with my extremely slow writing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Gesture Me Home2 - *Lemony***

**Teeny Tiny Twilight**

I am obviously the most delusional person to walk the face of this earth.

Ever.

In my mind, this is how it is supposed to work. I stumble through life—literally—get along on a good job and some close friends, find the only person in the world that can tolerate me and that I can love in return, everything falls into place, and we all live happily ever after. I can't be the only one. Even my not so sub subconscious was reeling, screaming: _What happened? _

Not that I wasn't unhappy. Not all the time. I figured that my life would run the fairy tale course, especially since Edward had been so open in the beginning. And he was for a few weeks. But then something started to happen.

You would think as a psychiatrist I would have not only _not _been shocked by his sudden distance, but would never have been disillusioned in the first place after seeing all the lives that _did_ fall apart on a regular basis. I even should have understood the way I caught him looking at me sometimes when he thought I wasn't looking. Confused and anxious.

I imagined that it was because he was scared to commit. He had never had a serious relationship before. So I did what I would have told my patients to do. We planned to go to an unbiased environment for a day just for us, and then we would talk, spend time together and clear the air again.

He agreed and we had gone off. We ended up pulling into the sketchiest motel on the highway because Edward was suddenly too exhausted to drive the extra fifteen miles to the next—hopefully better—hotel. I offered to drive the rest of the way, but he just snapped at me that I was too picky. So I shut up and we rented a room.

By the hour.

_**---Flash back---**_

"Oh my god."

Even Edward's eyes widened as he took in the rat sitting happily on our stained bed spread. Impassive and cold for the last two weeks straight, I almost screamed in delight and thanked the rat for changing his expression to something softer. The rat squeaked and jump up onto the faded wooden head board, it's nails clicking quietly before disappearing into a hole in the wall.

Edward slowly turned towards me, waiting for a fit of epic proportion. Maybe it was because of the way the rat looked like it had been waiting for us, or the fact that _none_ of this was going the way I had planned, or maybe it was just the plain relief that Edward was acting like a human being again, but I fell into a fit.

Of laughter.

We avoided the bed completely, taking a fancy to the only chair in the room. We sat together for a while and Edward seemed relieved (another emotion!) that I hadn't gone diva on him.

And then the rat's cousin snuck out from under the chair by Edward's foot. It was close enough to see the crooked whisker on the left side of his little ratty face.

So we spent the rest of the night with our feet curled under us laughing about the absolute ridiculous predicament. We managed to safely get onto the topic of expectations. "I really don't want to get married." I admitted, and Edward turned to me with something akin to relief. His eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened for a moment, assuring me it was real intrigue.

"Why?"

I shrugged, leaning my head against his shoulder. "I would rather never get married, and just spend my life with someone that I love with only that trust, than ever have to get a divorce. I don't ever want to pit myself against someone I used to love." Edward rested his head on top of mine, demonstrating the depth of his trust in me. His most important part of him—his head—resting against mine was the one of the most intimate gestures I had ever experienced, and these few moments made up for all the weeks of remoteness that I could never see as anything but rejection.

We stayed up most of the night talking until I suggested we take turns keeping watch (our door didn't have a lock either, we found). I was the first, and Edward was supposed to wake me up in two hours so he could get some sleep in too. I ended up waking up on my own the next morning. Edward had never woken me up in the night, content to stay up all night watching over me.

_**---end flashback---**_

I sighed sadly, and that openness lasted about a week before Edward lapsed back into his cold aloof attitude. I couldn't even have the peace of mind in knowing that at least he was trying to commit. He had made sure there was nothing keeping him tied with me. Our relationship was 'open', meaning he could go off and have sex and then come back to me without guilt, because open meant cheating without being able to get into trouble. I was on the same terms of course, but I didn't _want_ to go out and have meaningless sex, or date two people at once. I couldn't understand why Edward didn't just drop the whole open thing. He hadn't slept with anyone either.

Sometimes at bars, a girl would flirt with him, but his belly button would always be towards me—the object of his attentions. Sometimes when a really pretty women would flirt with him, he would stare at her with this unfathomable confusion, like he was struggling hard to understand something. And then after the woman lost interest and moved on to someone more cooperative, he always got snarky with me. I usually stayed out of their exchange, suffering silently on the side.

_Stop. Concentrate. Stop. Concentrate_. I jolted back to the present, I had a patient coming in in less than fifteen minutes and I had hardly prepped. I had their file in front of me with last session's notes, but I hadn't made any progress in which way we were going to try and steer the conversation today.

The door to my office opened, and I had a mini heart attack, checking my clock again to be sure that it was still fifteen minutes to the hour. They couldn't be early, my receptionist would have asked them to wait a little while.

My heart speed up further when I saw it wasn't my patient but Edward, grinning at me from the door. He had managed to carry the crooked smile with him into the half relationship thing we were engaged in, but rather than two faces, they were both his, one just carried a secret. He walked over and fell into the long chair in front of my desk. The chair _I_ sat in when a patient was here was across from him to decrease the intimidation factor.

"How would you like to dissect my brain Dr. Swan?" the way he was sitting should have said he was at ease, but his legs were braced, ready for attack.

I smiled sadly, "I really should be getting prepped." I admitted, and then gave up and put the file down. Edward smiled expectantly, and I leaned my head on my hand, showing the exact same thing he was. Ill at ease, my arm was between my chest as a similar defensive manoeuvre to his. I dropped my arm immediately and tried for a more open position. "Alright Mr. Cullen, what would you like to talk about?"

Edward's eyes looked up to the left, touching his ear and I shot him a dark look. "Don't lie to me Edward."

He stared at me for a moment of surprise as I caught him inventing an answer. If he had looked up and to the _right_ he would have been trying to remember something. "I'm sorry." He blurted immediately. And then he groomed himself, running his hands though his hair, trying to make himself better for me. And then his eyes narrowed, "How do you _do_ that?"

I shrugged, "Human's are social creatures, and our species depends on that. Lying go against the instinctive 'community' aspect of society so you have ways of trying to warn me that you are lying. Your blood moved up to your head in embarrassment and makes your ears itch, and you do this particular thing with your eyes." I watched him rub his ear, smiling.

"Alright, so I came be honest with you." He bowed his back, bending himself so that the top of his head faced me in a sign of trust. "I'm horrible with...commitment. I'm not just having a rough period between jobs, I've _never_ been able to hold a job down for more than a few months." He looked up to judge my expression, worried.

I smiled, more happy that he was being open with me than anything else. My body moved into a more naturally open position in response. "Edward—"

He cut me off, now that he was sure I wasn't going to break up with him because he wasn't making thousands of dollars a week. I could more than take care of myself financially. "But I wanted to prove that I'm past all that." His foot started tapping nervously, not convinced by his own words. His hand came up to his mouth to keep the truth from slipping through his lips. "I want you to be my girlfriend, rather than just the girl I'm dating."

He stood up and came around my desk to me, cupping my head in his hands. Cupping my head was his way of blocking out the rest of the world, and I knew he _wanted_ what he said, but I also knew with a sinking feeling in my stomach that he wasn't even ready to declare me his girlfriend. Before I could try and say anything—to let himself talk through it to a means to show me he wanted me without stepping too far out of his comfort zone—his lips were on mine.

Everything went mushy, but my heart jumped into a frenzied beat. He pulled away after a passionate kiss, and smiled at me with bright eyes. "I'll see you later." He promised, nearly skipping out of my office. I stared after him, still breathless.

My patient walked in thirty seconds later to remind me I was screwed.

Later, while I was at home staring at the container of pasta in my hands, silently cursing Edward for not giving me a time he would be over at. Do I cook the whole package in case he comes, or risk throwing out all the food if he comes in after dinner? My whole body was buzzing, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, I had miscalculated and Edward _was_ ready to make us an item. At just the _thought_ of that security, of knowing that I wasn't just a fall back made me feel...amazing. Like I could fly.

I bit my lip and happily poured the entire package of noodles in, then went over to mix the sauce. The doorbell rang, and I smiled grandly, glad to have put the package in. I knew how Edward eats.

"Come in!" I called. I heard the door open, then close loudly. The hair on the back of my neck prickled.

I distinctly heard his footsteps when he came into the kitchen; I smiled, hoping he could smell the sauce as clearly as I could. That's right, Bella Swan knows how to get into your head _and_ stomach. I turned towards him, grinning smugly, about to ask him if he wanted a taste, but my smile faltered when I saw his expression.

He was livid.

His fists were clenched at his sides, his jaw taut; he glared down at me raised to his full height. Instinct took over, and I fell into my faux calm facade. People can feed of strong emotion, especially anger or fear. The best way to diffuse the situation, in my experience with angry unstable people, was to relax completely but hold my ground. But Edward wasn't unstable, so I shouldn't be as scared as I was. "Edward?" I asked gently, not moving.

"I trusted you!" He exploded, "I came to you and I _told_ you I wasn't ready for anything serious and you guilted me into it! You put me in your patients chair and you fucked around with my head!"

He was breathing hard, and I could feel my breath quickening too, though not in anger, or even fear now, but because I was sure the room was loosing air. "Edward..." I whispered, not sure what to say. What to make out of his accusations other than to plead not guilty.

He stared me down. "Burn in hell." He hissed, and then stormed back out, slamming the door behind him.

I felt for a chair, and stumbled back into it, not quite able to stand on my own. The silence was deafening, the seconds ticking too loudly on the clock. Finally, I got the strength to stand up shuffling numbly over to the stove turning the elements off.

I was vainly distracting myself from the tight chested feeling—the one that had come with Edward and refused to leave with him—by trying to analyse what had happened today in my office, and then here and....

I saw the empty packet of spaghetti and bust into tears.

----

I was late for work.

I ran through the building, _so_ glad that I couldn't wear heals without being the catalyst for some great catastrophe. I burst into my office, panting.

Twenty minutes, I had twenty minutes to prep for my patient since I hadn't been able to concentrate last night.

Mental break downs do that to you.

I had taken two steps into the room when I realized the particular incident of my office being unlocked. And then half a second later that a Mr. Edward Cullen was sitting in my patient chair. I was having a terrible moment of Déjà Vu.

_Don't run_ my subconscious pleaded as adrenalin soaked into my bones, doubling my strength.

"What do you want Edward?" I sighed, putting the great black bag of files onto my desk a little harder than necessary. _Don't analyze him or you'll forgive him_. I purposely kept my back to him for just that reason.

He didn't answer, and I couldn't help but turn to look at him. He was sitting on his hands. Human's weren't always as verbal as we are now, we used to communicate mostly with gestures, and sitting on your hands is a way of editing what you're saying. Usually because your trying not to say too much, trying not to screw up. In Edward's case, trying not to make matters _worse_.

"I am so _terribly_ sorry. So sorry that sorry doesn't even cover it. I just...please, can I have another chance?" Edward's breathing was heavy with emotion, his eyes huge and pleading.

I leaned against my desk, arms crossed glaring. Everything about my body language was closed off. "I'm going to say a word, and you are going to tell me what comes to mind, alright?" Edward nodded eagerly, confused but willing.

"Abuse."

Edward stopped breathing. "Bruises." He whispered, and then considered the word a little and bowed his head. "Emotional abuse. Attacking you for no reason."

I sighed and leaned back against my desk, my hands going back to brace me, my body language unintentionally opening to him. Dammit. I didn't know how long I could keep doing this.

"I swear, Bella, I would never...." he choked over a word he couldn't get out. "I never want to hurt you." He whispered instead.

----

Hello, I'm Gullible, please meet my not-quite-boyfriend Persuasive.

Edward had not only convinced me back into our half relationship, but he had roped me into meeting his friends. And then in the passenger seat of Edward's car, on the way to his buddies' house, I burst into laughter.

He looked over, surprised. He hadn't lapsed back into his cool attitude yet, for which I was glad. The best moments of my life were being spent with Edward, though I think that had less to do with the moments and more with Edward just being there. Of course I was also having the most painful moments of my life on our little roller coaster. He smiled at my expression, a full faced smile. A head over heals smile that I only saw on good days. And even some bad sometimes. "What's so funny?"

I snickered, "Just remembering my office party when you were supposed to me _my_ friends."

Edward frowned a little in embarrassment. "Yeah...well I _did_ eventually get to meet them."

_---Flashback---_

"Edward?" I hissed down yet another empty hallway. I was beginning to think that the reason he had our 'open' relationship thing was so that—in times like these—he could run off with one of my drunk co-workers without culpability.

He had been _right_ behind me when I had stepped off the elevator, and now he was gone. I needed a leash.

I sighed and grabbed a flute of champagne, taking a too big swallow of it. Please let him not end up sucking on my boss's breast, or mounting my secretary. I sighed, and went back to the elevator where I'd lost him, hoping that I might be able to escape before anyone knew he was with me.

I pushed the button for the elevator and watched all the bright numbers counting up. The doors slid open, and there was Edward, acting as the elevator attendant. "Floor twenty three, have a nice evening."

The couple that walked in—one of them was vaguely familiar—looked impressed. We have never had anything close to something as fancy as an elevator attendant. I stepped into the elevator, raising an eyebrow. "Should I ask?"

Edward looked away, pressing all the buttons until each was glowing orange. "You're friends are going to hate me."

I blinked startled. I tried to imagine someone like Angela _hating_ someone. Honestly, I couldn't. "Why would you think that?"

Edward gestured down at himself. "Bella, I _borrowed_ this suit. There isn`t enough hair gel in the world to keep my hair from looking like I just rolled out of bed, and I`m horrible at first impressions. Not everybody gives me as many chances as you do. I'm not good enough for you, and the moment _they_ realize that, I'm toast."

I sighed, taking his hand and leaning against him. "Come on, Edward. If you weren't good enough for me, don't you think _I_ would have realized that?"

"No." He muttered.

I thought about it, and then grinned. "How about we stay on the elevator and get drunk on expensive wine?"

We stayed on the elevator for half the night, pulling gags. I think the best was when Edward smacked himself in the head, hissing "shut up all of you. Shut up!" The person being pranked was Joseph, a new psychiatrist specializing in Multiple Personality Disorders. I don't think Edward was expecting anyone to offer to make the voices go away. Edward stared at him, and then smiled grandly,

"This is a borrowed suit."

I ended up luring Edward out once he had met everyone at the party through the elevator. It was probably the best office party ever.

And believe it or not, all my friends liked him.

_---end Flashback--- _

Edward pulled into a drive way, and nervous butterflies crashed around inside my stomach. "Okay, I understand the nervousness now." I admitted. _Except we didn't have an elevator to get drunk in this time_, my subconscious goaded.

Edward laughed, "You think this is bad? Imagine trying to impress at some spiffy social event. _That_ is terrifying."

I sighed and stepped out of the car. Edward came around while I stared at the house, trying to imagine the people who lived inside it. Edward slipped his hands into mine, "Ready?"

"No, but they're going to think I'm insane anyways. What's the difference?" I laughed nervously, and then ran a hand through my hair, grooming to impress. He squeezed my hand, and lead me into the house.

I fully expected Edward to drop my hand the moment we walked in the doors. Holding hands in front of people is a sign of pride, and people scared of commitment don't want anyone to get the wrong impression. Even if it's true. Edward surprised me by keeping my hand in his, greeting his friends who were sitting on the couch and introducing me.

I forgot each of their names the moment he said them, all except Emmett, only because it sounded like a grandfather's name. He looked younger than I was even with his burly muscle. It must be his dimples, I decided, and the too big, open, childlike smile.

I waved back shyly. The blood haired one who had an old name too, his name reminded me of Casper the friendly ghost because it rhymed stared at me with wide eyes. "Bella Swan? As in Isabella Swan? As in _the_ great Isabella Swan that catched criminals? Do you know there's a new series on TV based on you?"

I felt my face heat, "I—I guess. And I've seen it once." Honestly, it sucked, and not just because the actress portraying me had bigger breasts than I did and had every man imaginable being drawn in by her presence through out each show. I think they had a love octagon going on when I gave up entirely on the series.

"Jasper." Edward warned.

Jasper stood up, "God, I _worship_ you. You have to be the most amazing—" Emmett, the big guy, threw a piece of popcorn at him.

"Shut up and sit down before she calls a restraining order on you."

Edward chuckled, and led me over to the couch. He sat down so that our knees were touching, a way to say that we were an inseparable team. He was making it clear that we were on the same side. He threw a mock glare at Jasper, the scary one. "How dare you worship her; especially when you're supposed to be worshiping _my sister_."

Jasper's eyes widened. "Oh, man, Alice is my _religion_, I'm just saying we have a legend among us."

I talked to the guys a little, and then quieted down when the football game they planned to watch came on. I wasn't really the sporty person, my lack of coordination had made sure of that, and I never did understand the entertainment of watching people play a sport. I stayed quiet while they cheered, and Edward kept his arm around me throughout the game.

I sighed after an hour and kissed Edward's cheek. "I've got to go, I'm sorry."

A few of the guys looked at me, politely paying attention to me when all of their chests—but for the exception of Edward—were still directed towards the TV. Edward's expression crumpled into apology. "I'm sorry, we're boring you. Do you want to watch something different?"

A few of the guys shot Edward dark looks, but by far the most terrifying came from Emmett. I laughed, "Not at all, this was fun, but I have to meet a patient."

Jasper's eyes immediately widened into admiration. Edward frowned, "Why can't he—or she see you tomorrow?"

I shrugged on my coat, "Because he's a vampire."

The room fell into silence other than the game in the background. None of them were paying attention to it now, all of them turned towards me. Emmett got up and walked out of the room. Finally Edward broke the silence by bursting out into laughter. "A _Vampire_? Does he seduce women and turn into a bat?" The other guys smiled at Edward's wit, adding in a few stereotypical vampire qualities of their own.

I smiled at them, "No, but he hates the sun," I gestured outside at the darkness, "And he's a bit of a cannibal, so I feel more comfortable meeting in a semi-social area, you know...just in case."

The room was silent again, and Edward's face paled. "A bit of a cannibal." he repeated tonelessly.

I grabbed the scarf from my pocket, and wrapped it around my throat. This was a just in case too, he would have to bite through the thick scarf before he reached my throat, and by that time I'm kind of hoping someone would have come over to help me. "Well, you have to eat a bit of flesh to get to the blood." I defended him. "And I really doubt he's going to eat_ me_." I grinned playfully at Jasper, "I'm _The_ Bella Swan."

Jasper flushed with pleasure.

"Man, you have the best girlfriend ever." Someone whispered.

Edward got up and walked over to me. He took my shoulders gently into his hands, feeling their shape for a second, and I was sure he was about to tell me he wouldn't let me go without him. The same thing Jake used to do until I invested in a bat in my car to beat him off. But then Edward just pulled me against him and captured my lips in a passionate kiss.

A series of catcalls and howls came in when my hands threaded into his hair, holding him against me. Edward pulled away, and gave me a dark look. "If you get eaten, I'll be pissed, got it?"

Before I could respond, the burly one came back into the room and tossed me something. I caught it, and then took a better look at it. A clove of garlic. Emmett looked at me just as seriously as Edward had been.

"Just in case."

---

I was waiting on the steps that lead into Edward's apartment, waiting for him. He had called and scheduled a date for us tonight. He wanted to celebrate something, though he wouldn't say what. I waited. And waited.

And waited.

I was starting to get nervous. Edward had never done this to me before. Not without calling at the very least. I waited another twenty minutes until he was a full hour late.

I didn't even know where to call to find him. He was in and out of jobs so often that the moment he told me his work number, he was already fired. Or quit. Or just stopped coming into work because he had stayed up all night writing music and forgot about work entirely.

I drove back to my flat, checking to see if I had any messages from him. Nothing. I called his apartment and no one picked up. Terrified, I called the only person I could think of. Edward had said that he had a sister, _Alice_, though I had never met her. I searched through the phone book until I came across the name _Cullen. A_ so impossibly happy she hadn't gotten married yet.

A slight tinkling voice picked up after the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, um, this is Bella swan, you don't know me, but I'm dating your brother. You _are_ Alice, right?"

"Last time I checked. Can I help you?"

I took a shuddering breath, trying to calm down. "Edward said he would meet me for a date, but he hasn't shown up, and he's an hour late and he's _never_ done this before and I wanted to know if you know where he is." I realized I sounded like a whiny girlfriend. "I just need to know he's safe." I added quietly, curling the cord around my finger, waiting.

"Oh, no he's not here. I'm sorry I don't know where he is. I'll call around for you though if you'd like." She seemed honestly concerned and I thanked god she didn't think I was some psychopath stalker. I was demonstrating some of the traits.

"That would be perfect, thank you." I gave her my number and waited until she called back.

Her words made my stomach drop in dread. "We don't know where he is."

I called the hospital near by, I checked my messages again, I called his apartment for the fourth time. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I called the police and asked them to do a drive by of the streets around his house, giving them his car, and his characteristics. I stared to imagine the worst. A car accident, a mugging gone terribly wrong, a UFO abduction, the list went on.

They called me back with nothing. I tried to calm down. This was good, this meant he _probably_ wasn't hurt in an accident. Or worse. But I refused to think of that. I called the hospitals again, and then drove by the front of his building.

And there he was. I nearly hoped the curb in my frantic parking and jumped out of the car. Instantly, I thought the worse when I saw him sprawled out across the steps into his building, but the closer I got, the more I realized that he wasn't hurt.

He was drunk.

"Hey gorgeous," he called drunkenly when I was close enough for him to recognize.

"Where have you _been_?" I cried.

"Celebrating!" he cried happily, and then his face took on a drunken seriousness, "Oh, our date. Oops." He gave me an unfocused puppy eyed apology.

I helped him up off the steps and into his apartment. I pulled his key out of his pocket and half dragged him onto the couch in the living room when my arms turned Jell-O. He was too heavy to pull the rest of the way into his bedroom.

I forced a few Tylenol down his throat with a glass of water, and then left the bottle of Tylenol and a new glass of water by the couch. I was just tucking a blanket around him, muttering to myself angrily, when Edward inhaled deeply. I froze, and he smiled up at me, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "You smell almost as good as you look."

I sighed at the protective gesture and kissed his forehead, "Goodnight Edward."

He mumbled something unintelligible and I left. Calling Alice to let her know Edward was safe—for now. Though I couldn't promise anything about his heath after I was through with him tomorrow. Alice picked up, sounding irritated.

"I found him, he's safe." I managed, worried that her ire might be directed at me.

"Oh I know." She trilled sharply, "Jasper just came home liquored." And then I could hear her yelling in the background. "You filthy liar, you said you had no idea where he was. Bella and I thought he was hurt!" there was a silence and then Alice full out screaming, "Yes, Bella Swan is just as angry as I am! Good, I hope you never get your damn autograph."

"Uh...bye?" I hung up, Hoping to get away from their conversation as quickly as possible. She hung up on me and I sighed, falling into bed exhausted. Two images warred against each other, the Edward I loved that laughed and smiled and held me close to him—the one that with every gesture promised he loved me—and then the other one that refused to admit that he wanted me. The Edward with cold eyes and closed postures.

And I was having trouble remembering why I put up with all of this.

---

When I woke in the morning I wasn't as angry as I thought I would have been. There was an odd feeling of emptiness in the sound my lock made in my apartment when I left, and the hallways all looked too big. If I was being honest with myself, I knew what had changed. I was cutting a piece of myself away.

I flicked the radio on, an ingrained habit, but after the third whiny rock song I had to turn it off. I got to the office early and prepped for all the patients I had before lunch. I tried to focus, to ground myself during the sessions with my patients, but when my attention wasn't demanded I drifted. I skipped lunch, unable to find my appetite, and stared at the phone instead for a full twenty minutes.

I didn't know if I wanted to call him or not. I wasn't angry anymore, but what was I supposed to say? 'Hey, I'm not sure if you can remember last night, but it just happened to be the last straw. Oh, why am I being a coward and doing this over the phone? Because if I see you, I know I'll cave and I don't want to spend the rest of my life running around after you.'

Actually, I knew there was a good chance that he could crack my will power over the phone too. He had a way with words, and even the persuasive tones of his voice might be enough to break me down.

I closed my eyes tightly for a moment, and then grabbed the phone without letting myself think about it too much. I dialled the number I knew by heart. I forced my thumb away from the 'end' button. I could do this, even if it was just to ask if I could meet him after I got off work.

"Hello?"

Even groggy and rough with dehydration and sleep, his voice had my heart hammering. "Hey, it's me." The muscles around my throat tightened.

"Bella!" Edward cried, relieved. "I'm so glad you called. I'm so _so_ sorry about last night. I swear, I just lost track of the time." There was a moment of awkward silence. "Bella? Are you still there?"

I choked past the lump in my throat. "Can I meet you after work today?"

"That's perfect!" Edward's enthusiasm caught me by surprise, "I'll see you in a few hours." He chuckled in barely contained anticipation.

"Kay," I managed, a heavy feeling weighing down my chest. He said goodbye, and I hung up, stairing at the clock. It was going to be a _long_ day.

***

On the way to Edward's house, I was driving slower than usual. "I've made my choice." I reminded myself sternly, "No going back now." Still, my heart was beating too hard and fast in my chest, robbing me of oxygen.

I coaxed my unwilling truck up into Edward's driveway, only to see him waiting on the steps where I had found him sprawled the night before. He looked completely different than last night, his hair was its usual messy style, though it looked like Edward had tried to tame it, his clothes looked thoughtfully put together, and his posture was straight. His eyes were shining with impatient excitement.

I took a long breath, and got out of my truck. Edward stood, a huge happy grin dominating his face, he practically _oozed_ excitement. The huge grin, the one that showed his entire face was saying just that; _I'm showing you everything about myself. I won't hold anything back._

He came up to me, and frowned a little at my expression, "Why so glum?" He looked up at the sky and smiled again, "It's a beautiful day."

I looked down at the concrete. His toes were facing me, he wasn't nervous or self-conscious in the least. Casting my eyes downwards was a sign of my hiding something, because the eyes were such an expressive feature we tended to hide them in the face of strong negative emotion.

"Hey," Edward murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ears. This was a grooming technique too, but he was grooming me, which was showing a desire to take care of me. "I have some good news." Edward murmured, ducking down so he could get into my line of sight. "I got a job." He smiled hopefully. His eyes widened as he spoke, displaying an openness towards me, a truthfulness.

I looked him in the eye, and I could feel my expression morphing into something ugly. Anger. "Wonderful, now you can loose it again in a week."

Edward stepped back at my harsh tone, his eyes widening further. And I hated that. I wished he had narrowed his eyes to say that he wasn't taking my reaction to heart. The surprise was there too, and rightfully so. I _never_ put him down, I was always supporting him, even when he wasn't there for me.

Edward's excitement was draining, and his shoulders slouched. I knew the movement meant that he wanted to hold me, to try and make it better. "You're still angry." He rubbed his stomach absently, his form of saying he wanted me to build him up rather than tear him down.

I had to shut my eyes tight. Seeing this through ignorant eyes would have been painful enough, but knowing everything that passed through his subconscious mind was even worse. "I can't do this anymore, Edward. I'm done."

I opened my eyes to see I was talking to his cheek. He had turned his head away from me in the classic, _I don't want to talk about this_ gesture. "_I will _not_ shut-up!_" I screamed. A few passers by sent me looks, then quickly averted their eyes and walked past us faster.

Edward was sputtering, "I didn't—I never—"

My jaw clenched, "You don't have to say it to get the message across to me Edward. You _know_ that. Pushing me away would have been hard enough, but I'm fantastically aware of _every_ movement that tells me you don't want me. So you are finally going to get what you want. I'm finished."

Edward grabbed for me, "Bella wait, please. Just give me—"

"No." I stared him down, "I can't help you fix yourself, not now. Not if it means I have to tear myself apart to do it. But at least now I can walk away knowing I gave you the chance to try. I'm sorry, but I have to move on with my own life."

Edward swayed, and I thought he was going to fall, his face was too pale. He looked at the sky again, wondering what went wrong. "But it's such a beautiful day." He whispered more to himself than to me.

My eyes were burning with tears, I blinked them back furiously. "I'm sorry." I whispered, and then spun and got back into my truck before I could compromise myself further. Edward looked after me in a numb way, trance-like.

My truck roared to life, and I saw as I pulled my seat belt into place, Edward's expression crumbled from numb to anguished. His head cocked to the side a little, but not in confusion. He was trying to call me back. Just as if he had said it aloud, my body responded with an answer in return.

I shook my head 'no'.

Edward didn't even have that startled moment he usually had when I 'read his mind' as he had put it more than once.

I stared resolutely forward, and hit the gas. The street blurred for a moment, and I wiped the tears away quickly. There was a guilty agony rearing up through my chest. I was giving this up forever, I realized. Maybe I would never fall in love again.

Facing facts, I realized this might just be a truth I would have to live with. I had never had a desire to be with someone like I had with Edward, and maybe it was the feeling of all the months we had spent together, leaning against each other, but I wasn't sure if I ever _wanted_ to replace him.

Tomorrow—and all the tomorrows after that—suddenly seemed very bleak. Could I really go back to spending my winding down time after work only with Jake again? Could I ever look anyone in the eye ever again and _not_ remember the thrill of blood through my veins when Edward wrapped an arm around me? The intimacy between people was something I have lived without for so long. Not really understanding what I was missing, it was bearable, if not something that kept me awake some nights.

The idea of living without that now was like....

Was like resisting the sudden urge to check my review mirror just one more time. I just wanted to see him one last time before he disappeared.

_Don't_ I ordered sternly at the same moment my eyes rose, and caught the empty side walk where he had been standing.

Heavier than before, a cold weight dropped through my chest and into my heart. The bitter weight started to twist around flesh, and spread, disease like though my body until I could feel it burning sharply in my finger tips.

A sudden realization struck me.

This is what empty feels like.

I was just turning off his street, focusing on driving through the breathlessness. Once I was home, I could give in and cry. Slowly put as much back together as I could of myself, and then keep walking on my solitary path.

It came out of nowhere. One minute I was trying—and failing—to not think of what I was leaving behind, and then as fate so much enjoyed, turned feeling into a literal opposite.

Edward, thoughtfully tucked in shirt, now loose and falling out, hair back into its usual mess, jumped a fence and ran out in front of me.

I kicked down my break, and for a terrifying moment, even as my tires stuck against the dry road, my truck didn't stop moving. Edward didn't make an attempt to run, or distance himself at all from the old rusted monster of a truck coming at him. He just closed his eyes, braced his stance, and clenched all his muscles, waiting for impact.

But then my truck _did_ stop. I flew towards into the steering wheel, the seat belt ripping me backwards in almost the same moment. I pulled my hair out of my face quickly, down from when I had nervously pulled the tight bun out after work. Edward wasn't in the road, and a chilling certainty that—even though I was sure I had stopped in time—he was under my truck set in.

My passenger door flew open, and I screamed.

Edward froze where he was, both his hands up towards me, showing palms up in the soothing way, eyes wide. _I'm not here to hurt you_, the hands and eyes said, but the way they were between his body and mine said defensive in case _I_ tried to hurt _him_.

It was dead still, my truck having stalled into a dead silence. Edward was breathing hard from his run, and I realized that to get here he had to have run through the backs of yards and over fences. My lips started to pull down in a familiar way, before trembling unsteadily.

Dammit.

I was going to cry.

I covered my mouth, quickly, and then my eyes as excess moisture started to spill onto my cheeks uncontrollably. I felt the truck shift to the right as Edward climbed into the cab, shutting the door behind him. He undid my seatbelt and pulled me over his lap into the passenger seat before starting my truck and bunny hopping us over to the curb.

The moment my truck stopped screaming, I gave up and looked at him.

Edward's natural reaction to seeing the wet marks on my cheeks and around my eyes was to protect me. His shoulder rose, and then rolled forward in a desire to hold me, and like most every time before, I expected him not to act on it. I was in Edward's arms a moment later, and I started sobbing, clinging to his shirt.

Despite the fact that I had stomped all over his heart, Edward kept me close against him. "I'm s-sorry." I hiccupped, trying to disengage myself. _Wrong_, my logical mind whispered. I was leading him on by allowing this. By initiating a physical connection I was hinting that it was still possible for us to be together emotionally.

_Right_ everything else screamed. There was no logic in the way my fingers sought the warmth of his chest when I felt like I was burning, or the way he pulled me back against him without protest, whispering my name in comforting tones. He untangled my hair with gentle fingers while I struggled to regain control of myself.

I managed to reign in the torrent, but I stayed where I was a moment longer than I should have let myself allow. Eventually I found the strength to pry my fingers from his shirt. I straightened the best I could in his lap, righting my shirt. I was pulling myself into my strongest shell, my professional one. I knew that by feigning a professional attitude, I could force emotional distance, calming a situation down and putting it away so as to move on.

Edward's head cocked in amusement, his smile lopsided and unsymmetrical, and yet still excruciatingly beautiful when evolution and my own logic told me different. I didn't like the humorous way he watched me, like he could see through all my careful actions. Actions that were proven to work, not just in theory, but in practice.

In response I became even more formal. "I am so terribly sorry." I told him, hearing all the sincerity dripping in the words. "Would you like me to drive you home?"

Edward's hands naturally moved to rest on my fidgeting hands. I noticed a thin silver band on the second to last finger on his right hand that I hadn't noticed before. "So I can run out in front of you again?" Edward shook his head. "What I _would_ like is if you came home with me." Edward saw my hesitation, "Just for a minute. I just want to show you something, and if you want to leave after, I won't stop you."

I considered, unsure. Was this right? I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, "And you won't chase me home? No stalking? No persistent phone calls?"

"If I lie, will you come?"

I deliberated, and then nodded grudgingly. Edward flashed me a gorgeously open smile.

I scooted over into the driver's seat, terrified for my transmission. The truck's engine had been well restored once upon a time, but it was wheezing its last breaths as of late. I took a deep breath, and without looking at Edward, tried to remind him of why he didn't want to be with me. I wasn't going to get my hopes up again. I don't know if I could take even one more week of his chilly demeanour.

"Edward?" I asked.

"Hmm, yes?"

It sounded like I pulled him from another train of thought. I took a deep steadying breath. "Why do you want me?" I meant the question to come out professionally detached, but my voice wavered on the last word. It's a trick I played sometimes with especially stubborn people. If you ask a question, and make it sound like it's from their side, they are more likely to honestly think about it. Most times, in situations like this, they come up with more reasons _not_ to.

Edward sighed, "If I must love you, let it be for naught, except love's sake only. To love only for a smile, or a laugh, for the breath of her skin or the silk of her hair, for it is a trick of thought. So beloved, this thing be, they merely amend for the—"

"Edward." I snapped. He was stealing _Elizabeth Browning's_ words and moulding them into his own. Falling back onto other people's words didn't impress me. I could recite Romeo and Juliet's confessions of love, but that doesn't mean I _mean_ it. He was evading my question.

That terrified me.

Edward sighed sadly. "No poetry." He murmured to himself.

I pulled up along the curb, the same place I had been just a minute before. Edward was out of the truck before I had even fully stopped and came around to open my door for me. The gesture wasn't startling, he did it often, even in his icy moods.

Edward walked close beside me up to the doors of his building. His arm brushed against mine, and I knew he was looking for me to extend my hand for him to hold. I pulled my arm against me. Along the way, I saw an Edward sized hole in one of the bushes along the side of the building. I gave a startled laugh.

We walked past the elevator in his building, a chain across the front with a little yellow _under repair_ sign hanging on it. Edward hesitated, and then unwillingly steered me towards the stairs. I stepped up on the first step, and then Edward kicked my legs out from under me, swiftly catching me in his arms.

I gasped, and gripped onto his now much abused shirt. "Are you trying to kill me?" I cried when I realized he wasn't going to drop me. I saw a bit of green peeking out from under his folded collar, and I picked the leaf out, letting it flutter down.

"Bella, you are _much_ more than my life. I'm trying to apologize for being less than what I can be for you."

"So you're going to drop me down a flight of stairs?" I watched the stairs gathering behind him, pulling together for the attack.

Edward snorted, and I knew without needing to see that he was rolling his eyes. Despite my criticisms, Edward was extremely lithe, even with me in his arms. He cradled me naturally, as if I could be a natural extension from his body. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. In the face of my better judgement, I trusted Edward; what I didn't trust was my remarkable ability to injure myself in even the most harmless of places. Held above a steep flight of stairs was far from harmless.

Edward finally set me on my feet again when we reached his door. He reached into his pocket for his key, smiling at me in his smug way. His smiled wavered a moment, and he checked his other pocket, and then his back pocket with barely concealed horror.

I laughed quietly, and reached into his right pocket to retrieve the key. Edward, like most anxious people, had a jittery habit of not being thorough enough to lets say, checking the lowest corner of his pockets, where a key's weight might drag it.

Of course folding his clothes properly would help too.

Edward stopped breathing, staring at me with an undeterminable expression. He let out a shuddering breath when he saw me pull the elusive key out, his hand moving through his hair, and then to cover his neck.

A lighter fell out too, and I bent and picked it up for him, remembering a day that seemed like years, and not just six months ago when it had been a condom to fall from his pocket. I looked at it sadly, and then up at Edward. "Look, Edward—"

Edward unlocked the door and pushed it open; he took his lighter back from me. "Please, Bella? What will ten minutes cost you?"

_Everything_, I wanted to scream. I could already feel it weighing me down, forcing me into stronger arms. Edward walked through the door, and waited for me, his body blocking the entrance so I couldn't see past him. I couldn't quite move though, put between my desire to run, run as far away from him as I could, and walk through with him and acknowledge that the weight I was being crushed under was love.

I could already see his expression cooling again into heartless apathy behind my eyes. It regularly haunted my dreams on good days, and was my waking nightmare on bad.

While I debated with myself, Edward waited patiently, content to watch my thoughts rolling across my face. It was his unending patience with me that clinched it.

I shuffled forward a tentative step, and then took another. My feet felt lighter after the first step and Edward seemed to let out a small breath, his muscles relaxing a in the slightest degree. I wonder if he would have grabbed me had I run.

I had been here so many times before; it was as familiar as my own. I didn't even have to look towards the pegs to shrug out of my jacket and hand it up. This thought made me uncomfortable, and I concentrated more than I had to taking off my shoes.

Honestly, I loved Edward's home. He had music pinned up against his wall, lyrics of songs that he liked, the notes to certain songs, and some that he wrote himself. He had instruments all over the house. Chances were that if he walked out of a room with his saxophone, he would walk back in with his guitar.

His favourite though, was his piano, crammed against the couch in his living space. There was about enough room to walk in, and sit on the couch it so dominated the room.

I wished I could say that Edward was able to play every instrument in a mediocre way to sooth my jealousy, but he was _extremely_ talented. So much so, that I was envious sometimes. Edward had trouble getting a good job, mostly because they thought what I thought. That because Edward could play every instrument he touched, he was a jack of all trades but a master of none. Any job that he did get was so bellow his standards that he fell into a depression and quit within a month. And if he got a job outside of music, he would throw himself into writing his own, and then he would forget all the little things like...work.

I had tried to explain to him on more than one occasion that sometimes you have to work your way up into a position that you want. Edward, true to his admission, couldn't commit to something that took work.

The last thought left me feeling cold. How long until Edward decided he was tired of me? When I was more work than he wanted?

I walked into the kitchen, I nearly tripped over Edward's bass. That wasn't what stopped me though. I gasped, taking a step back and knocked into Edward. Instinct should have made me step forward again, away from Edward—his presence so close behind me had startled me almost as much as the scene in front of me—but Edward was safe. Something I gravitated to.

From where I was, my back pressed against his chest, I could feel the nervous shudder of breath he pulled in. He steadied me, and then stepped around me into the kitchen. He walked up to the oven and pulled out two dishes, both fit for a gourmet restaurant. Each dish was decorated with sauces, a steak covered in spices, and my favourite veggies.

He smiled at my expression, "It's really not all that impressive. I burnt the first two beyond recognition."

He set the plates on the table, each one fitted with a glass of wine. There was an expertly folded napkin to the left of each plate and on a table cloth—a big deal, I didn't even know he had one—were three red candles. A waxy droplet streamed down the side of one, and then Edward was across the room, turning on a CD player in the corner.

One of his compositions I had never heard before started to float around the room, weave a complex melody through the air. I had herd him humming pieces of the lullaby sometimes, but I hadn't thought much of it until now.

I covered my eyes when Edward moved back to the table and started to fiddle with one of the napkins. _No, please no more_. Edward had made this perfect night for me, a celebration of his new job—and he had wanted to share the occasion with _me_. And I screwed the whole thing up.

"Bella?"

"_No_." I moaned. If I saw anything else, the guilt might weigh me down enough to fall through the floor. I had accused Edward of so much when he had done all of this for me.

"You can't say no until I ask you." Edward laughed nervously, "Besides, I need to see your eyes to have enough courage to ask."

I slowly pulled my hands away from my eyes, looking at the floor and trying not to let the prickling at the back of my eyes gather into tears. Edward waited, and I looked up at his face. I caught the shape of something in his hand, and I concentrated on Edward's face. I didn't have the courage to look at it just yet.

Edward stared back at me, his throat working to swallow his nerves. I had the impression that my stare was making him even more nervous, and I realized I wasn't blinking often enough, making my stare penetrating. I blinked twice to ease him.

Edward's hand shook when he moved his hand through his hair, laughing again. "So I planned out everything I was going to say, but you've terrified me into silence." Edward's eyes widened in horror, "In a good way. I mean you are terrifyingly beautiful." Edward licked his lips, and I knew it was his unconscious mind trying to tell him to stop talking.

Edward pulled in a deep breath at the same time I looked down with horror to see what was in his hands. He had a beautiful ring intricately woven with delicate silver strands embedded with bits of small diamonds. A silver that matched perfectly with Edward's new silver band.

Edward saw the change in my expression and his words rushed out in a flood. "Look, Bella I know you don't want to get married, and I understand that after the way I've acted. I don't blame you, I wouldn't want to spend my life with me either if I had the choice. I thought they could be our little inside joke. It's marriage without marriage, you know? It's my way to tell you I'm ready to commit. And I was hoping you would change your mind on the whole marriage thing. One day. So the rings are my way of saying I'm ready." Edward, with perfect ease—the nerves having slipped away in his speech—slid the ring onto the ring finger of my right hand. "I'm ready to put a ring on your left hand."

I stared at my shaking hand for a moment. Edward twined his hand with mine, and our matching rings touched, making the silver whisper around the delicate melody of Edward's composition of the music and the moment itself.

I pulled my had away, needing both of them to cover my face. My legs crumpled and I collapsed sobbing. Edward crouched and pulled me against him, letting me ruin his shirt. Any hope of dignity had flown away, and not even the strictest professional facade could pull me together now. I clutched onto him and muttered pathetic apologies. Edward leaned his head against mine, a show of trust, letting me know I was safe in his arms.

The act was also telling me I was forgiven, because no one as angry as he should have been with me would offer up a gesture of such intimacy. Slowly my tears calmed, and Edward soothed his hand over my hair. "I'm sorry." I whispered for the thousandth time.

Edward sighed and ignored it. He had stopped responding to my blubbering after the thirteenth apology. "You okay?"

I pulled away, and tried to gather myself together again. "Yeah. Yes, so—" I caught myself in time before I apologized again and smiled ruefully.

Edward measured my expression carefully. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded, sniffling. "How do you not hate me? With what I just did—"

"How about what you said earlier?" Edward cut me off, and I winced, wondering which something he was referring to. "About not having to say anything to get a message across to you. And I did know how well you could read body language, but I thought you just...turned it off when you were with me. You never said anything." He stared at me with all the depth of his eyes, "How do _you_ not hate _me_?"

We were silent, looking at each other for a long moment. I didn't—couldn't hate him. And I think in that silence he realized it too. "Actually," Edward murmured, "another important question is: are you going to stay?"

He stood up, his hand not leaving mine, as if he were scared if he let me go, I'd disappear. Trying to connect more emotionally with me by connecting physically. He shifted his weight back and forth on his heels. His body trying to take pressure off his knees, because he was—literally—weak in the knees.

I was slightly distracted by this, by the suddenness of his change. He had gone from ice cold, to lukewarm, and then, suddenly, he was blazing heat. He misread my hesitation—my surprise—and he reached forward to touch my shoulder. Him trying to convince me he was safe, a nice guy. "Before you say, no, I have one more thing to show you." And then he was guiding me into his bedroom.

I felt my shoulders tense, unsure now. I had given everything to Edward that I had over the last six months, except this. Not because I was unwilling—never that—but because Edward _had_ been so distant that bringing the subject up had been intimidating.

He literally _jumped_ into the bed, turning in the air to land on his side, facing me with a smug confidence that stemmed from the fact that this—his bed—was _his_ territory. I could see that in the way he lay slightly diagonally, taking up as much of the bed as was possible.

He smiled, an over the top suggestive look that was obviously meant as a joke. Then why was my breathing getting faster? My heart thundering and a heightened awareness of my neck, begging me to touch the skin there. To entice him?

And then I realized what I _should_ have realized to begin with. What he was trying to show me.

"I got you new sheets. I know you like to be warm," he rolled his eyes, "Even when it's plus one hundred out. So I did a bit mental research and found that red colours make people feel warmer." He smiled, obviously quite proud.

I'm sure he didn't do enough research to know that red heightens heart rate—which is what makes us warm—and also makes us release pheromones that are responsible for passionate responses. Like anger, or lust.

Edward smiled, and then bent his face into the sheets, rubbing his cheek against the material. "And it is _so_ soft." He looked up at me, eyes heavy lidded, "feel."

It was a command. I reached forward, instinctively obeying the instructions of the alpha male while in his territory. I hummed, distracted. "Soft." Like silk. The fabric shone in the last of the sun falling through the window, its warmth clinging to me.

Edward rolled his eyes, "I do believe that is _touch_ Mrs—Miss. Swan. I am asking you to _feel_. To actually experience the sheets in all their silky glory." He rolled in the bed. What he was doing was primal, spreading his scent on something he was giving to me. It was a possessive gesture, one that was not unlike giving me his coat.

I considered this, Edward wasn't making any motions to say he wanted me to get horizontal with him. I was a little disappointed, because whether it was the colour, his alpha-male behaviour, or just that I plane, flat out just loved this impossible man, I couldn't tell, but I wanted him. It would have been easier if he was asking, so that I could just say yes.

It was never that easy with us, and I should have known that.

I crawled into bed with him, and in a very natural, instinctive gesture, I unbuttoned the top button of my blouse. Edward smiled, pulling me closer to him. "I just thought I would make the bed up for you so you could spend the night after super. I have to say, your secretaries are a little forth coming with information. I asked you schedule, and they gave it to me with no questions asked. What if I was stalking you?"

I sighed, and then shrugged, "I would be a very lucky victim?"

Edward hummed in his throat, and then kissed me gently, and I knew he knew I wasn't going anywhere. I wrapped my arms around him and his hand moved down to my back, rubbing the skin there. I wasn't sure anymore if Edward was purposely or subconsciously seducing me.

With only one way to find out, I hooked my leg around his hip, and then rolled on top of him. He was happy with this, his hands gently on my hips, asking me to stay where I was while he shifted himself slightly under me to get more comfortable.

It was just heavy breathing and kissing for a long moment, and I was wondering if or when I should make the next move. Didn't he want to be in control in his domain? It made sense, but he wasn't making any forward moves. I decided to give him a little push in the right direction.

He didn't notice what I was doing until I was shrugging out of my sleeves. His eyes flashed open, and then he gasped. "Oh my god." He said so lowly I had to read his lips to know what he was saying. He reached forward, as if to touch me, and then quickly grabbed my shirt and pulled it around my shoulders, swallowing hard.

"Bella..."he carefully smoothed my collar down, grooming me in his way to say he wanted to take care of me—and possessively saying I was _his_ to take care of. "You don't have to...I mean, don't do this because you—or _I_...I've made you fell like you have to." His voice was trembling and I could feel him trying to shift himself under me to try and hide his growing arousal. He was smoothing my collar again, touching my skin repeatedly in little gestures.

It didn't matter if Edward started screaming "NO!" His body was screaming "Yes!". I cupped Edward's face in my hand, "Do you honestly think that you could make me do this if I didn't want to?" I whispered, amused. Edward's eyelashes fluttered with my breath on his face. If his hands weren't on me, I knew they would have been on his jeans, drawing my attention subconsciously to his manhood, trying to show himself off as a suitable mate.

Edward cupped my face in his now, bringing our faces closer together. "_Yes_, Bella. I know I can. I'm sure I am and I want to stop. I want you to think for one second. If I've made you feel you have to do this, and then I _let_ you do this, you would hate me. _I _would hate me."

I sighed, about to explain to Edward that I possessed this little thing called _free will_. And then changed tactics. "Edward, do you _want_ to make love to me?" I made sure to phrase the question so he would hear it the way I intended. Do you _want_ to posses me, to make me yours in a way a ring can't?

"That doesn't matter. You—_you_ Isabella, is what matters."

I smiled, leaning over him and keeping his gaze. He didn't blink, and I smiled. "You want me," and then I felt a spurt of uncertainty despite all his gestures. "You _do_ want me? Right?"

"Obviously."

I smiled, a fluttering of relief in my twisting stomach. "I want you. I've wanted you for a long time, but you always seemed so...disinterested. I was worried you would say no. Or that if you did say yes, we would get worse."

Edward stared at me, "I...am the biggest moron. I've been my own cock block." And then he growled playfully and rolled us so he was on top. Just as I knew he would. "So you want to do this?" he made sure, his forehead resting against mine in the second deepest form of intimacy.

I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, "_Yes_." And then we started to move towards the _deepest_ form of intimacy.

Edward kissed me passionately, struggling with my bra while I wrested off his shirt. He was more efficient than me, having my pants and my underwear—not matching my bra...I had been planning a break up—and my bra was a distant memory while I was trying to push his jeans down.

He helped me, and then they were gone too and Edward was pressing me naked into the sheets.

He was right, they were silky.

I pulled away from his mouth, "Edward," I gasped. His lips immediately moved to my throat, his hands busying themselves with massaging my thighs, my hips, my breasts, playing in my hair. I trailed my fingers delicately, working down to his manhood, but he stopped me. He hummed a "yes" against my throat at the sound of his name at the same time.

"Be gentle."

Edward nodded, "I can be gentle." I shivered and he looked up at me with dark eyes. "If I try." He ripped open a condom, it having magically appeared out of thin air it seemed, and rolled it on expertly with one hand. Then he pushed gently into me, and then his eyes widened, "Are you a virgin?" his voice rose an octave in panic.

I laughed, biting back a wince. "No. It's just been a while."

Edward's eye narrowed like he didn't believe me. "Define 'a while'."

I blushed, chagrined. "Prom?" It sounded worse aloud than it had in my head. Edward was staring at me dumbfounded, and I think he even forgot he was inside me for a moment. When I didn't continue right away, his head cocked to the side in interest, despite our current position. I hurried through my defence. "I felt really hopeless, and I got drunk, and I started to think that I was unlovable, and Jake was right there...so we went out into the back seat of his car."

Edward started to move with a renewed gentleness. Tenderly kissing my face, "You are anything but unlovable." He promised. "You're a master piece. You are my every shade of grey, every colour. Everything. You are everything."

Edward's movements were getting less controlled. He'd lapse and started to move harder inside me, and then remember himself and slow down again.

He had been gentle for the part I had needed, now I wrapped my legs around him needing something different. "Please," I begged, my head spinning, dizzy from his scent, from the way his hands were everywhere I needed them without so much as a moan from me. "Harder."

One of his hands slid under my arched spine, cupping the back of my head and twining in my hair, bringing my lips up to his. This was so different that it had—or could—ever be with Jacob. We had both been so drunk, and the pain of the moment added with the physical pain hadn't produced any feeling of intimacy within me.

I griped his shoulders, crying his name out. I ran my nails down his back, the edges rough and sharp from biting them, and with the last ounce of my will power, I opened my eyes, watching and reading his expression.

Edward gasped, and then his eyes locked on mine.

Space and time suspended, I felt something change, and then Edward slowed, resting his forehead gently against mine, not breaking eye contact. Suddenly we weren't racing towards an edge, but rather walking along side it, balancing with perfect ease between the building pleasure and the final release that was curling and collecting in my abdomen.

"I wish I could go back in time." Edward whispered in our transient suspension of reality. "I wish I had known you existed, and I would have hitch hiked all the way to—prom." Edward smiled at me, and I managed a breathless laugh, completely enamoured in him. "I wish I could have realized that something as perfect as you is really meant for me. I wish I hadn't been so scared to lose you because you were the only thing I needed. I wish I could take it all back and just hold you because I know I never want to let you go."

"I love you." I whispered.

Edward kissed me, and I didn't dare close my eyes for fear of letting even a moment of this pass me by. The spring was curled, and set, my muscles clenching around him getting closer to something so much bigger.

Edward hooked my leg around him, and then he was thrusting deeper. Our reality pulled and twisted itself around us until I felt I couldn't breath, and then it just... burst.

I screamed, my nails finding purchase in his skin, my back arching from pleasure, bucking to try and meet his thrusts. To make the blanketing pleasure stop before it ripped me apart. And then his voice, strained but beautiful and sincere at my ear. "I love you too."

I scrambled to find what I needed, one thing I couldn't live without, and I knew it was mine. He had been calling me there, making it safe and warm and perfect for me. I knew the exact place, where he had hidden it, and held it open to me all the same.

My hands found his heart, beating hard and fast through the skin. My hands over his heart was all Edward needed, and it was my name in the room now. I knew that this was where he had been struggling to gesture me the whole time, through fears and insecurities. And finally I realized that with Edward, I couldn't completely depend on gestures, because for all the paths they had lead me down, the safety in which Edward held me now was constructed entirely of emotion, of adoration and helpless devotion.

Finally, I was home.

**A/N: THIS WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE SO LONG!! And this is a Christmas present since there is no way I will be able to finish the next Baby sitting before Christmas (haven't even started it yet...sorry) ^_^ you ask why I can't on the Christmas holidays? Because I was assigned an essay : ( but I will try very very **_**very**_** hard to get it out. (does anyone else notice how much I complain?)**


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